


Lost Things to the Common Eye (ON PAUSE YALL)

by orphan_account



Category: 18th Century RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Hamilton - Freeform, Historical Lams, Historically Accurate, I love feedback, M/M, a lot of history breaking, also featuring Laf being the best son to Washington, also this is really sad sometimes, and hammie is really bi, and my first ao3 fic, and theyre both really flirtatious, and trying to deny his sexuality, at least i think it will be, but also completely inaccurate, but also really happy, but then political fallout happened, but we need John to grow up and have a backstory, complex backstories are good in my opinion, feed the beast, hamilton yall, honestly I'll probably make accidental references, i promise we will get to Lams soonish, im no good at tagging, im not toooooooo bad though, its an emotional rollercoaster, john is so impossibly gay, like Martha Manning might have been a rebound, my very first hamilfic, show time, so dont expect greatness, surrogate son at least, there is A LOT of meaningless flirting, we already knew that though, wow i just rediscovered how gay John is and WOW, yo yo yo what time is it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (ON PAUSE CAUSE I SUCK, I PROMISE I'LL BE BACK EVENTUALLY)John Laurens was not a normal kid. Oh sure, he played with is friends and made jokes and was incredibly smart but... there was always something off about him.He never played with girls, in any sense of the word. They didn't interest him in the slightest. His father, Henry Laurens, would inroduce a pretty, rich girl, she would flirt, pull out all the stops, and John simply said a greeting and left to be with all his (male) friends. The only girls he loved were his sisters Martha and Mary, who meant everything in the world to him, until he left home of course. They understood John better than he did himself. They would never spill his secrets, no matter how vile. Then again, one was one and a half when he had last seen her and the other twelve.John was content, if a little anxious to go back to America to fight in the Revolution and try to free slaves. Then he made the worst decision of his life. He met Martha Manning. And then, debatably worst, met Alexander Hamilton.





	1. Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys I'm super excited for my first Hamilfic! This is gonna be a load of fun. Here is the basics so you guys know what you're getting into:  
> 1\. Homophobic (plus internalized) stuff is gonna happen, that's just how things were back then, it's not very often though. Also panic attacks sometimes  
> 2\. I don't follow all the rules of history, but I do try to keep it somewhat in order. Sometimes things just have to be changed for the sake of the story.  
> 3\. Everyone is going to look like their actual historical selves. It helps me stay immersed and keep the writing process flowing.  
> 4\. I have no schedule at all, but I'll try to post every week or so. Sadly, I might end up abandoning the project for a little while, but I will tell you if that's the case. If it says something like 8/??? chapters, I will not just leave the story like that and leave you wondering if I'm coming back or not. That's a pet peeve of mine, so you know I will honor my word.  
> 5\. Swearing, horrid depictions of battle, and suggestive themes... I doubt there will be any smut though.  
> 6\. PLEASE ENJOY IT

John Laurens was an adorable bouncing baby boy born on the twenty-fourth of October in 1754. Henry and Eleanor gazed fondly at their child, praying and hoping he would survive his childhood, unlike their previous nine. Time after time, the Laurens children would die before the age of five. Their flames extinguished after a few years, a few months, a few weeks... a few days. The odds were not in John's favor. In fact, every statistic pointed that John would not survive his infancy. But Jacky was just a baby, so he laughed. His laughter could bring the highest of joys to everyone around him. John's laugh was like the feeling when you're given good news. It was like the beautiful sound of church bells ringing after a battle was won. John's laugh was pure, unadulterated happiness. How wonderful a place the world would be if it had stayed like that.

 

******

 

"Father, I'm telling you, we don't need to move across the Atlantic Ocean for our education! Henry and James might benefit, but I would much prefer to stay here! I am of college age, I could study to become a doctor! I know there are many wonderful colleges of science in the colonies that would accept me! I'm begging you, let me stay here! Our schooling had been doing well with you and mo-" John was going off on his father. After the recent death of his mother, John had become even more rash, with a habit of blowing up when something he didn't favor was effecting him. Moving to London "for his education", happened to be on the list of things John disliked.

"John Laurens I swear to God and our lord and savior that if you do not refrain from talking this instant I will toss you outside to the fields and make you work till sundown!" Henry Laurens shouted, standing up from his desk that he had been just previously working on. This was a legitimate threat, the seventeen year old John knew this from experience. He promptly clamped his mouth shut. Henry nodded to signal that John had been dismissed.

John mumbled on his way out the door of his father's office. "My apologies, sir." His hands clenched into tight fists. He continued walking to his room, which happened to be across the house from where he was now. The air around John seemed to be affected by his anger. John felt like he had to swim through the air just to be able to move a few steps. By the time he reached his rather spacious room, John was exhausted. He wasn't good at being angry, as it always weighed him down and prohibited him from enjoying anything at all. 

John pulled out his sketch book and some charcoal. He sat on the hardwood floor, trying to find some sort of inspiration. John's only inspiration was anger, all he could feel was anger, he saw through a veil of red anger. This was his home. This place was John's. This was where John felt safe. How was he supposed to feel safe across the sea? Anything could happen there. What if there was some disease outbreak? What if he died? What if his family died? He would be all alone. What would he do? Would he ever be able to come back home? What if his father didn't allow John to leave? He would be stuck in London or wherever they relocated to. Would John be able to stick up for himself and leave? What if he fell in love? Worse, what if he didn't? Impossibly even worse, what if he fell in love with a man?

All these questions flooded John's system and soon he was sobbing on the floor, clutching his sketches close. It always came back to that, didn't it? How his sensibilities leaned away from God, away from society? Away from human? "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why can't I just be normal?" John knocked on his head. The anger was back again. John set his things carefully on his desk and ran outside. He ran to the stupid woods, stupid tears running down his stupid face. John was so stupid. Everything he did and said and thought and felt was stupid. John reached a small creek and stripped down to just his underwear. He dived in, just wanting to cool down. He felt like he was on fire with rage. 

John repeatedly dipped his head into the water, holding his breath for as long as possible without passing out, or just plain screaming. It was all too much. It was too damn much. Soon, the sun was beginning to set and John knew he had to get back home before his family worried about where he went. Right as he was climbing out of the water, no longer seething with anger, his sister Martha was just sitting down next to a tree. She held a knowing look as she gazed at John's face, red with the both the chill of the air and embarrassment. John instantly inserted a joking tone in his voice as he began to speak. "Shouldn't you be taking are of little Mary?"

Twelve year old Martha would normally be singing to one and a half year old Mary to soothe her to sleep at this time. Martha had taken solace after their mother's death in this daily practice, so it seemed unusual she would be here instead of with Mary. "You missed supper. I was worried." She shrugged and stated the fact simply, as if it had been a mere second thought. John knew though, by the look on her face, that Martha had been incredibly stressed about the ordeal.

"Well, I'm fine, so you can go back home." The sentence held an edge to it that John didn't necessarily intend, but he didn't bother to apologize. He started pulling his clothes back on, expecting Martha to leave, but she didn't.

"It's the moving, isn't it? I'm positive everything will be fine, Jacky." She moved to touch his shoulder, but John quickly turned away. He was in no mood for this. Martha knew all his secrets, and although he loved her deeply, John couldn't bare talking to her about this. Sometimes she was just too nice and too understanding. He needed to sit with this. 

John stood up straight, holding tears back. He straightened his clothes out like one would after sitting down for a long time. His voice was stone cold, and sounded as if it belonged to an old man, not the young John. "I'm sure it will be. Come on now, Father will be waiting for us, and I am in no way eager of one of his aggravated greetings."

"Oh John..." Martha sighed. She was very mature for her age, and had experienced many things like this before. If John was so overflowing with negative emotions he couldn't handle, he would shutdown. There was no getting John out of this until he got himself rested and busy. John hated himself for it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby John  
> ~~~~  
> I live for feedback and shit, so anything you have to say, positive or not, I will LOVE


	2. Boats Suck

John stepped onto the dock with enthusiasm. Now that John was no longer water-logged, he would be heading off to London for a few months, possibly a year until his father found it fitting to send John somewhere else for an even better education then the one that could be granted to him in London. London, although a sound choice for the continuation of John's education, did not sound as good to Henry as Geneva, Switzerland. John was still adament about going back to America quickly, so he didn't really care where he was being taught. But first, Henry had to attend to his own political business here. That all wasn't what John was excited for though. Right now, he didn't care that he was going to be given a wonderful learning opportunity, or get to see his father gain political influence, or even that he was going to be able to spend more time with his dear brothers. No, he was enthused about the fact that he was finally on land after two months on the ocean.

"Land!" John cried out after his foot landed on the dock. He ran straight to the nearest patch of dirt he saw and kissed it repeatedly. "I missed you so!" He laid on his back, watching as people walked around him, not hesitating to stare at him oddly. John simply didn't care. He hated being on the sea for that long. The first month was fine, even if John was still pretty grumpy that he was being dragged to Europe by his father. He was able to learn every constellation that he hadn't known. He picked up little tips and tricks from those maintaining the boat. He even created new games for his brothers to play aboard the ship. Every day held something new for John.

And then boredom struck. He had seen every constellation, learned each and every one of their names. He had memorized every story about them from every crew member. He could point in the sky blindfolded and still be able to tell you about one of the endless amounts of star clusters. He knew the ship in and out, even to the tiniest spot where someone had forgotten a screw and occasionally leaked water into the boat. He how to raise a sail and tie it back up later. How to properly avoid a storm. How to get water off the boat as effectively as possible when storms were unavoidable. He could drive the damn ship if need be. And the games, oh god the games. John and his brothers had dreamed up every game imaginable, even a game involving cleaning bird poop off the boat. John had lost count of how many games there were. 40? 50? Not even Jemmy new, and Jemmy loved counting. 

Jemmy and his counting! "Hey Jack, do you know how many seagulls I saw today?" "No, Jemmy, I don't." "67!" John didn't know how Jemmy, only six, was able to remember that number all day, but let the thought slip through his mind. He just wanted to sleep. "Wow Jemmy." "I also saw a pod of dolphins that had five members!" "Go to sleep Jem." "But-" "Sleep." "Fine John." Then Jemmy would mumble counting sheep until he fell asleep, which nearly drove John mad. Sometimes, James (everyone calls him Jemmy) would count 500 sheep before falling asleep on nights that the ship would bounce around. John would climb up onto Jemmy's bed and hum him the song that their mother had sang to them when they'd have nightmares. They helped Jemmy to sleep, but afterwards, John would lay in his bed too afraid to sleep, in case he saw his mother. John thanked God that Henry Jr., more commonly known as Harry, fell asleep in seconds after laying down. 

If you can get him to lay down that is. Harry seems to have an endless supply of energy! How does he run around so much? John figured it was one of the benefits of being eight. It was definitely annoying when Harry was bored. "Jacky Jacky Jacky Jacky pay attention to me Jacky Jacky Jacky J-" "What!?" "What are you reading?" "Harry, I'm just studying up on Latin, like you should be. Where are your passages?" "Underneath my bed." "Go read them." "But that's booooring." John would sigh, knowing what was about to happen. He earnestly wanted to study his Latin. "What if I help you?" "Would you really?" "Let's go Harry." "Yayy!" Then John would follow Harry, who would be sprinting, down to their sleeping quarters, and help his little brother with some Minimus. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it wasn't. Honestly, teaching Latin just reminded him of his mother's classes when John was Harry's age. 

"Heeeelllloooo, Joooohn, time to come back to land for a while. You've been laying there for 10 minutes." Jemmy and Harry were leaning over John, smiling so bright John thought he was going to go blind.

"Oh don't worry about that, I'm going to stay on land for a looooong time. Boats suck," John declared. The two younger boys nodded and laughed. John got himself back on his feet and breathed in the wharf's air. "It still really smells like saltwater here, but I'll deal with it for now." Jemmy exaggeratively breathed in too, mocking John. John, in response to this, picked his brother up and blew a raspberry on his shoulder. Jemmy wailed as his brother flew him threw the air, tickling his side, his neck, the crook between his knees that for some reason was incredibly ticklish.

"No! Jacky! Stop!" Jemmy giggled as John flipped him upside down. They all laughed as John set the boy down. Jemmy was panting, hands on his knees.

John, still laughing, checked on his exhausted brother. "Are you alright there champ?" Jemmy just nodded his head, too tired to give a better response. He gulped in air, a few dramatic breathes at time, and finally responded with his words. "I will never mock you again, Jacky! I promise!" Jemmy smiled at his older brother. He always took such great care of him and always made sure he was having fun. A sudden bout of love and hugged John. "I love you," Jemmy said with a childlike smile. 

John was confused by the little boys sudden show of affection, but hey, a baby brother's love is a baby brother's love all the same. With a slightly confused sound in his voice, he returned the compassion. "Love you too, Jems. Harry, get in on this group hug. You are a part of our love." Harry ran over and almost knocked his brothers over with a leaping hug. This was really cliche. John loved being this cliche with his brothers. 

"Okay boys, let's get in the cab waiting for us and head home," Henry said to his three sons. He smiled at them and their silly activities. People were starting to stare now though and Henry kind of needed to keep his reputation in tact. "Hustle up."

"He's right," John said to his younger brothers. They grunted unhappily and started shuffling to the cab, "You guys do want to see the new place, right?" John knew the boys weren't very interested, so he decided it was time to pull out the big guns. "There are trees to climb," he said, stretching out the word climb. Harry perked up immediately and Jemmy picked up his pace to the cab. Oh, and there goes Harry, sprinting full speed at it. It looks like that was the right thing to say. John came from behind running, and picked James up in one swoop. "Come on Jem!" John raced over to the cab, carrying James, who was screaming.

John sat Jemmy down on one of the carriage's four seats. Harry scooted in right next to him and John politely sat down next to his father, opposite of the two young boys. Harry looked out the window, humming quietly. Jemmy got that look in his eyes that showed he was defintely counting as he looked out the other window. John glanced over at his father, saw that he had his glasses on and was reading some document or the other, and turned back to facing his brothers. John decided that right now would be the perfect time to write the letter he would soon send to Martha. He straightened out the piece of paper he had with him, carefully displayed his ink in front of him, and got to writing with his brand new quill.

My Dearest Little Martha,

I understand it has been a very long time since I have wrote to you and that you must miss the presence of your oldest brother and the younger ones. I apoligize for the fact that this journey has lasted quite long, and you may trust me when I say that the voyage was in no way pleasurable. I myself long for a hug from you and a childish laugh from our little Mary. It is such a sad thing that we will not see each other for so many years. Please do promise me that you will be happy, as that in itself would warm my heart. I hope the fact that Jemmy and Harry both are very happy will warm yours.

Jemmy has apparently learned to count for long periods of time and into larger numbers. He still enjoys counting birds and the occasional silly duet with Harry. Jem tends to have troubles falling asleep, but Mother's song helps him greatly. Some nights Father will sing it to him, but it is mostly my own voice that soothes our young brother. He has actually started to memorize the song and sing it frequently. Sometimes he switches out moon for ocean though, so when he sings about the "ocean in the sky," I break out laughing. Hopefully Harry doesn't begin to sing it like that too.

Harry's energy never changes. He must have run a thousand laps around that ship. Under my tutelage, Harry is actually retaining some information, though I won't bore you with the details. Father still believes he is dumber than a box of rocks (he does have some right to that statement, as Harry ran into a wall yesterday), but I am detirmined to form Harry into one of the best and brightest men of our generation. His enthusiasm and ability to catch onto things quickly makes him a great student, if unattentive.

On the ship, Father was very inveloped in his work. He does not allow me to look over it. It is "concerning only to my work and you should stay out of it." I have sincere doubts about that. I hope he is okay. Father seems to be incredibly cold and strict, even moreso since Mother's passing. I once was at his door about to bring him lunch, when I heard crying on the other side. If my memory serves me right, he was saying things like "I'm so sorry Eleanor, I'll raise them right. Just like you would." It brings me to tears just thinking about it. I really do hope he finds peace. I ask you do not mention this, as Father would be extremely embarrassed.

As for me, I am okay. The ship was torture for a while but I can get over that. I wish I was back home. I heard talk of the Sons of Liberty once again on this ship, and although I find their methods a bit extreme, it is exciting. A revolution against King George? It would make sense, and I would enjoy being a part of this. Hopefully, when I get back home, I can support this cause. It seems though, that I am rushing into this. The SOL have existed for years now, why do I think about them now? I think it is my longing to be at home, or maybe a sudden realization of the cause after I have left. Since I am as priveleged as I am, it perhaps slipped by me. Now that I have a different standing, it could have stuck. I do not know, my sweet Martha.

Ah, but Martha, what is happening with you? Are Aunt and Uncle Laurens being kind to you? Do they give you many books to read? Have you read any of the greats recently? What about storytelling? Have you told them one of your many stories? Would you write me one in your next letter? Have you written much yet? And how is learning to cook going? I know the last time you tried to cook did not go very smoothly, so has anything improved? I know you like to stick with simple sandwiches, but a more complex meal would be better for you and your family's health. Has anyone tried to suit you yet? If they have, tell them your older brother will rip out their hearts if they break yours. Please remember that it does not matter their status in the world, but their status in your heart. You are still so young though, so do not rush into marriage.

It has been wonderful writing to you, but the cab is just arriving to the new house and I must be on my way. It is a decent looking home, with trees nearby and many other high things to climb. Jemmy will love this. He loves to count things atop high trees and poles. His balance is somewhat questionable, but I'm sure he will become more graceful with time.

Your loving brother,  
J.Laurens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love Jemmy and Harry? They are such sweethearts. Jemmy is so very likeable. It would be a shame if something were to... happen. Remember guys, I have no control over who lives, who dies, who tells John's story.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~  
> ANY NOTES ARE APPRECIATED. IF I F-ED SOMETHING UP, TELL ME?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "John Laurens? John Laurens hold up for a moment!" John turned around to see the prettiest boy he had seen in his entire life.

Geneva, Switzerland.

Wow.

John was tired and a little angry. That is not a good combination for John Laurens. He had been in Geneva studying for two years, since 1772. The whole "stay with Father in London for a while" didn't work out very well. They both were irritable stubborn men who each sought to have things their own way, only budging when an incredible amount of undenyable beneficial facts for the other way were presented. It doesn't take a genius to infer what possibly could have driven the two apart. Geneva itself had had it's own appeals too. It had an outstanding education system, or so the world said, and it was far away from any business Henry Laurens might be a part of. A perfect system.

John liked Geneva, he really did, but his teachers were beginning to piss him off. John always wanted to be able to speak his opinion, and his teachers just wanted him to stop talking and listen. The only one that John didn't constantly want to fight with was Mr. Rabgol. His class was full of debate and opinions and rightousness. Mr. Rabgol actually introduced lots of new topics into John's life, one of them being the issue on slavery. Swtizerland wasn't pro-slavery, and John, having spent two years there, had started to adopt that opinion. He had written multiple in depth essays on slavery, most all of them being impressive.

John had usually quite a few friends and an equal number of enemies. That is just the sort of thing that happens when you're loud and you voice your opinions. Right then, though, he had more nemeses than friends. John had gotten into a fight with someone who was rather popular and well-liked. Having all these enemies was really starting to get to him. Geneva used to look like a place of happiness and joy just one week ago, but frowns and kicks and spit were all that John was receiving as he walked back home from class. John prayed for someone new to be his friend in this place. He thanked God he did have some friends who stuck by him after the fight with John Prejo. 

John's prayers were answered.

He sat down at his desk inside of his small house he shared with Jemmy and Harry, sorting through different letters he had received. Uncle James, Aunt Martha, ha, a letter from Little Sally down the street, Baby Mary seems to have tried to write a letter, and most importantly Henry Laurens. John was glad that his father had written back to him. Although the two Laurens men never could seem to get along in person, they were warm and loving in their letters. They would share to each other the small endeavors they went on and the different news they heard. John could sometimes get annoyed with these letters, especially with the persistance his father held on getting him married. It was a rare occurance for John to lash out on him about this, as John did see many his age marrying or at the very least in a courtship. Of course John wasn't going to tell his father about his romantic nature, he'd be disowned. There was also the risk of his father turning him in and getting hanged, but that was a second thought to John.

The letter from his father was mostly quite boring. Nothing very new had been happening in England, just the regular debates and such. One part of this letter did catch John's attention though. His father mentioned that Kinloch fellow, just a year or two John's junior. Francis Kinloch was a young kid also from South Carolina that John had encountered a few times when he was a child. They had gotten along well enough and John's father intended for him to be a sort of friend/mentor. John, desperate for a new friend, was ecstatic. He put the letter aside and immediately wrote back to his father, explaining the John Prejo incident and how he would easily befriend Francis. 

John finished with that business and moved onto Baby Mary's letter. Her handwriting and spelling was atrocious, but John managed to work most of it out. Four year old Mary had just learned how to write and said that she wanted to write a letter to her big brother as her first writing project. John almost cried then and there when Mary said she looked up to him, and decoded the fact that she pretty much idolized John, despite the fact that she hadn't ever talked to him. It was incredibly touching. John couldn't help but draw Mary a picture of the small necklace he always wore around his neck. The necklace was his mother's, and Mary had always loved to touch and stare at the shiny, slightly deteriorated, silver chain. John wrote to Mary and told her stories about when she was just a tiny little baby. You could say John had a soft spot for Mary. You could also say John had a small obsession with pleasing his family, besides his father of course.

After a few hours of work, John was finally ready to settle in for the night. He kissed his little brothers goodnight and fell asleep on his warm, if sightly stiff, bed. His last conscious thought was, *I wonder if Francis will like me.*

John walked into the center of the campus, looking for someone new that matched the description that his father had given him for Francis. He was somewhat boyish looking with soft features and very scrawny. He was supposed to have dark brown eyes, be about John's height, and a warm smile. John had been sitting for 15 minutes now and Francis was nowhere to be seen. John stood up, disappointed with the fact he had not found the new boy. He decided to head off for his class, which actually didn't start for a while but John like to be prepared. He looked around quickly one more time and started on his way. 

John was getting closer to his first class when he heard his name shouted out behind him.

"John Laurens? John Laurens hold up for a moment!" John turned around to see the prettiest boy he had seen in his entire life. He had dirty blond hair messily tied back in a braid with a blue ribbon, beautiful brown eyes that truly were windows to his soul, and a boyish expression on his face of excitement and maybe a little bit of stress. Wait, that sort of matches with...

"Francis Kinloch?" The boys expression brightened up, probably at recognition of his name. John could feel the blood rushing up to his face. He decided this was in response to the bitingly cold wind, not the boy's incredibly cu-

"Yes, sir, that is me. Are you Mr. Laurens?" Francis asked. John was never called Mr. Laurens, so he was caught in a bit of shock. He raised his eyebrow but quickly stopped when Francis looked slightly rejected.

"Oh, uh, you can just call me John. I was waiting in the commons for what felt like forever, where were you?" John was very curious. No one ever dared being late at college. People had places to be, and making someone wait could end in you having a broken nose. John knew from experience. Never again...

"I couldn't find anything, I've been wandering around campus for at least an hour trying to find you. I actually can't really believe I found you at all," Francis said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. John smiled at Francis. "Anyways, I was wondering if you could show me around properly? Maybe show me my classes? My friend Johannes von Müller only gave me a pretty general tour, and I was confused by how fast we went past everything." He had a hopeful little smile and John just could not say no to that face, not that his father wouldn't punish him if he didn't anyways. 

"That sounds like Müller all right. Of course I can help you, what's your schedule?" Francis muttered a quick thanks and handed John his schedule. It turned out they had quite a few classes together, which was extremely convenient. "Okay, so I am going to show you where we get our food first. I think we should get the most important things out of the way," John said with a laugh. Francis also found the incredibly not funny joke pretty funny. John threw his arm around the slightly younger boy as he guided him to the cafeteria.

"I think we are going to be good friends," Francis commented. He smiled up at John and he felt heat rush to his cheeks, once again blaming it on the wind.

"Me too Francis, me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like the whole 'quote from the chapter and put it in the summary' format. Also, I have so many mixed feeling about Francis, and I really hope it isn't too obvious in my writing haha (´∀｀)
> 
> The two are going to be really cute yall but dont worry the Lams will come and it will be glorious


End file.
